CHAPTER XII.

THE APACHE GORGE.

Lancaster the guide, in his reference to the Chevenine Hills, had described them quite aptly. A long sweep of level country, containing thousands of square miles, was divided by a ridge of hills, which after making a long sweep went straight across the country. At one point in this wild ridge, there was a pass through which the Indians traveling north and south naturally made their way, in preference to climbing and clambering for a quarter of a mile through and over rocks, chasms and gorges, dangerous to horses and sometimes to men. This was the famous “Apache Gorge.”

This famous spot was notorious to emigrants for its danger. Those who were journeying toward the most southermost part of California generally passed thro’ the gorge, and those who did as if wise were fully prepared for an assault from the vigilant Apaches or Pah Utahs. Indeed many preferred when it was possible to labor through the hills, when such a thing was within the range of human possibility, in preference to braving the perilous pass.

It was this point at which the trapper had aimed, and toward which he pressed his horse to the utmost. It was scarcely past noon when he pointed to a ridge rising in the sky, clearly defined against the blue horizon beyond, which he informed them were the Chevenine Hills, and he was soon able to locate precisely the “Apache Gorge.”

“There’s the spot,” he added an hour or two later, “where if the gal is ever seen again you’ve got to lay hands on her. If the redskins get through there with her I don’t see as there is much chance of our getting sight of her.”

If the two parties, the Indians and whites were approaching the Apache Gorge at the same moment, it will be seen that they must rapidly converge. The former it was supposed, (and there was every reason for believing it to be the fact,) were coming down the eastern, while the latter were following the western ridge. As both had the same objective point, as a matter of course they were rapidly nearing each other, and must finally come together.

Whichever party reached the Gorge first, it may be said, commanded the situation. If the Apaches had passed through, the fact in itself was evidence of a speed which would carry them safely beyond danger. If they had not done so, then it only remained for the whites to make their arrangements and await their approach.

The whites now saw the keen wisdom and foresight of their guide. What apparently seemed a rash risk on his part, it was now plain was the only plan which offered the least success, and was the only one which in any degree could deceive the Indians themselves. In the first place in penetrating their destination was a fine exploit which won half the battle, and in the next place, the course of leaving the trail and heading off the Indians was the only plan of surprising them—and in this lay the only hope of rescue.

Beyond a doubt, the Indians expected to be pursued. Where would they look for their pursuers behind or in front? Had they any reason to believe or even to suspect that there was any one among the emigrants shrewd enough to suspect the Apache Gorge? Was it likely that one man in a thousand, in attempting to follow an enemy would take any other course than follow his trail? Who so audacious as to strike across the country and seek to head him off? Seeing nothing of the whites as they neared the pass, there was scarcely a possibility that they would expect to find them _there_.

All this we say the party saw, and gladly acknowledged the superior sagacity of the unlettered guide. Mr. Templeton, offering the trapper a segar, said,

“Ward, I’ve something to tell you.”

“Wal, let’s hear it then.”

They were now within a few miles of the hills, and were riding at a more leisurely gait.

“I have just found out that you know more in five minutes than all the rest of us here knew in our lifetimes.”

“You mean about the prairies and Injin signs?”

“Exactly.”

“Wal, all I’ve got to say,” said the trapper with a broad grin, as he proceeded to light his segar. “I wouldn’t have to know much to know that; you’re the biggest set of lunkheads I think I ever came across, always barring Fred here, who hasn’t been out in these parts a great while, but long enough to learn and keep his mouth shet when them as knows more are talking.”

“Well, that is a very modest way of accepting a compliment,” laughed Templeton. “I supposed you might perhaps find it possible to say a word or two in our favor.”

“Hoogh! wagh!” laughed Ward, shaking his whole body by the violence of his convulsions. “If axed to pick out the biggest set of jackasses that ever got loose, I’d hurry up powerful quick and lasso this crowd. I’d have ’em sure.”

“I—I—trust you would not place me in that category,” said Leonidas Swipes, fondly expecting he would except him on account of his learning and accomplishments.

“No; I’d stand you out alone by yourself, as having more of the jackass in you than all the rest put together.”

The loud laughter which followed this somewhat discomfited the Yankee, who, however, made a despairing effort to recover his lost ground.

“And where would you place yourself, if I may ask, Mr. Lancaster?”

“Where there was the least danger of seeing _you_, but, come, boys, we’re losing time.”

Just as the sun was sinking over the western ridge of the Chevenine Hills, the party drew rein and slowly approached the Apache Gorge. While yet some distance, Fred Wainwright had dismounted, and entering the wood cautiously, made his way to the dangerous spot, to reconnoitre, and to see that no ambush threatened. Discovering nothing to excite alarm, he appeared on a high rock, and waved his hand as a signal that all was right. A few minutes later the horses thundered underneath the thick trees and vegetation that wrapped the hills from peak to base, and the wearied riders dismounted to rest and refresh themselves.

All were wearied and dusty, yet the guide said,

“It won’t do to stay here; there’s a good camping ground farther in.”

He led the way for a quarter of a mile in a westerly direction, where they found a stream of icy cold water which issued from the mountain side, and an abundance of rich rank grass. Here their animals were tethered, and Lancaster told the men that they might lunch and rest themselves, while he and Fred Wainwright would return to the Gorge and keep watch for the Apaches. The cool shadow and the soft grass were so welcome that the remainder of the party immediately stretched themselves out upon the ground to enjoy the luxury of that perfect rest, when it succeeds perfect exhaustion and weariness.

Reaching the Gorge the two hunters clambered up among the hills, until they were elevated several hundred feet above the plain and had a view of the surrounding country for many miles. It was yet very light, and nothing obstructed their view except the horizon itself.

When they had reached an available spot, Fred Wainwright turned his head, looked one moment toward the north and uttered the thrilling words,

“_Yonder they come!_”

The trapper squinted his eyes for a moment, looked long and searchingly, and then replied as cooly as if he had asked for a chew of tobacco.

“You’re right, that’s Charouka and his Apaches, _sartin_!”

Off to the north-east, precisely in the direction indicated by the guide, a party of a half a dozen horsemen were seen approaching at a sweeping gallop. To the ordinary eye they were a half a dozen horsemen and nothing more; but the keen vision of the trapper of the Gila saw among them the object of their search. Florence Brandon held in front of an Apache Indian, who was no other than the famed Charouka.

The redskins were only a few miles distant, and would reach the Gorge within half an hour at the most. As the two surveyed them a moment, the young hunter suddenly turned to the older one.

“Suppose Ward they make no halt but pass on through?”

“What of it? They won’t go far. More likely they’ll stop here and kindle their fires,” replied the guide, rolling his huge tobacco quid from one side of his cheek to the other.

“Don’t you wish to let the others know what is going on?”

“No; let them be; they’re sound asleep and better off than here. We can’t do any thing until after dark, when the time for work will be on us. Till then why we’ll just watch.”

The Apache party rapidly approached, and as they neared the Gorge they came down to a walk. By this time they were so near that their features could be distinguished, and the young hunter looked upon the pale face of the fair captive with strange emotions.

She was held by the giant Cherouka directly in front of him. One arm was thrown around her as if to keep her from falling, while with the other he attended to himself. Although he grasped her firmly, yet it was not roughly. It was that grasp with which we hold the being we are unwilling to give up, and yet which we love with all the fondness and affection that our whole nature can summon.

Florence was seated in the usual lady-like fashion, as if she were supported by the ordinary “side-saddle,” her long dress sweeping almost the length of the horse’s body and shrouding her own feet, and the moccasined limit of the wild Apache from view. Her long dark hair was streaming over her shoulders, her face was white and deathly, and there was a wild agonized look in her dark eyes, which ought to have moved the hearts of the brutes which surrounded her, but which, as may well be imagined, did not affect their sensibilities in the slightest degree.

O how the young hunter longed to raise his rifle as they came within range and send his bullet through the brain of the treacherous Apache. But he was too sensible a fellow to do any such thing, even if he had forgotten that he was under the orders of his older companion.

True to the prediction of the latter, they rode a short distance through the Gorge, and then turning a little aside, dismounted, and made their preparations for a night encampment.

Florence was assisted gallantly to the ground, and allowed to take a seat near a tree, removed a few feet or so from the others, while they merely glanced at her as they moved hither and thither, Cherouka, however scarcely moving his eyes from her.